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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28423485">Dear Winter</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/frayedknot/pseuds/frayedknot'>frayedknot</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pitch Perfect (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Beca Mitchell-centric, Dear Winter by AJR, F/F, Soft Beca Mitchell, its a songfic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:01:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,378</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28423485</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/frayedknot/pseuds/frayedknot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Beca records a song she wrote about Chloe. Chloe hears.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dear Winter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The song is "Dear Winter" by AJR, and i love it so much that i've been contemplating naming my daughter if i ever have one winter lol.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Beca sits quietly on the couch in the Bellas house living room. The Bellas are out tonight, at a party held by the Trebles, who are no longer douches now that Benji is leading. Beca regrets not going out, like she regrets not telling Chloe about her internship at first, but she wants to record this song to give to Reggie. The song she recorded with Emily reminded Beca of her own songwriting, and she grabbed a notebook from her freshman year. The one she wrote her own songs with, until school and the Bellas became too much to do her own stuff, and she quit writing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But seeing Chloe in that blue dress that compliments her eyes made Beca’s heart beat harder, and she hugged Beca and kissed her cheek before asking if she wanted to come with. But she said no, remembering the leather notebook tucked under her mattress, filled with songs that were inspired by Chloe and the future she wants, and she said no. Chloe faltered, but smiled brighter when Beca just simply said she had a morning shift at the radio station tomorrow, with the internship not being a paid one. Not a lie, but enough of a half-truth that Beca feels slightly guilty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She slips the guitar strap over her shoulder, feeling the weight of the guitar press against her leg where it’s balanced, and glances at the familiar microphones settled in front of her to gauge if it needs adjusting to fit her height and the guitar’s. Finding it satisfactory, she takes a deep breath and looks at the notebook spread next to her, filled with the lyrics and the guitar notes she developed for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She glances quickly at the date at the top of the page. The date is noted after the first time Chloe defended Beca to Aubrey.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>September 22nd, 2012</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Beca,” Aubrey starts, turning to face the short brunette, who is dressed in sweatpants and a too-big t-shirt, makeup absent from her face. “You look like a slob. I understand that this is just practice, but Bellas always look presentable.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Chloe waits for the usual Beca retort, maybe wheedling Aubrey for being so uptight that a sloppy day isn’t allowed, but it doesn’t come. She looks at the younger girl and tilts her head, trying to ask if she’s okay. Beca just shrugs, which pisses Aubrey off more.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seriously, does your mother never explain what manners are?” Aubrey snaps. “Answer when spoken to!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“My mother is dead, Aubrey,” is what Beca answers with. “A year to the date. So I would appreciate it if you could keep your mouth shut about her.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Beca turns and sits, ignoring the glare Aubrey gives her.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I can’t believe you, B-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Aubrey, quiet,” Chloe butts in. “I will not have you yell. Everyone is allowed to have bad days, okay?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Beca sits up straighter, takes a breath, and starts singing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dear Winter, I hope you like your name</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hope they don't make fun of you</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When you grow up and go to school, okay?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Cause Winter is a badass name</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dear Winter, I hope you talk to girls</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or boys or anyone you like</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I just hope you don't stay in every night</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Cause I wish I was out tonight,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beca thinks about the people she let down- her own mother, when she said she didn’t want to go to college. She thinks she would be proud of her now, about to graduate. Jesse, when she turned him down because she’s gay. He got over it quickly, calling himself her wingman. Her dad, when she said she wanted to move to LA. She understands now that it’s important to get that degree.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloe. Chloe, when she didn't tell her about the internship. When she saw Jesse kiss her (though that has been solved, thankfully).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite having disappointed many, Beca thinks the worst has always been Chloe. Seeing hurt and anger in the redhead’s eyes is never a good thing, and knowing she caused it makes it worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It really doesn't seem like there's anyone for me</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But dear Winter, I hope you like your name</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I'm hoping that someday, I can meet you on this earth</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But shit, I gotta meet your mom first</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dear Winter, I hope you like this song</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And even when you're thirteen</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And you scream at me for parenting you wrong</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hope it's still a badass song”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beca thinks back to when she first heard of the word “winter” being used as a name. She always thought that it was an amazing name. Growing up in Seattle, winter was always a tough season, yet Beca loved every minute of it. She remembers the hot chocolates she shared with her mother, the nights they would sit and listen to her mother’s vinyls while sipping the warm drink. Those nights only happened in winter. She misses those nights.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wants her future daughter to be like that. Tough, and strong, but warm and hopeful and full of love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She knows that logically, any future children she has will go through the same phase she did at thirteen, where she would yell at her mother for fucking her up. She remembers those nights, and being ashamed of herself. Beca is just grateful that they made up before her mother died.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“It really doesn't seem like there's anyone for me</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But dear Winter, I hope you like your name</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You know I cannot wait to teach you how to curse</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But shit, I gotta meet your mom first</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dear Winter, don't move too far away</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And please don't say I'm hovering</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I text you to ask about your day</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wanna hear about your day”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beca remembers the first time Chloe yelled at her for cursing in the Bella House. It made her smile and tease the redhead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She also remembers the first time she can recall her mother cursing around her. She dropped a mug that Beca made for her in kindergarten, letting out a loud “well, fuck!” Beca immediately copied her, dropping her plastic cup and repeating the words. Beca’s mom chastised her for cursing, but Beca can remember the smile she gave her after, and the kiss to the top of her ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will we still hang out and talk</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I'm no longer in charge</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, dear Winter, I hope you like your name</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hope you let me take a shot with you on your 21st</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But shit, you gotta ask your mom first</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dear Winter, I'm looking for your mom</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I gotta find a girl that doesn't mind</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That I'm inside my head a lot</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winter, it won't be too long</span>
</p><p>
  <span>First, I just gotta find your mom”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She thinks about Chloe, who, when Beca is in a funk, just sits in her room with her, wrapped up in five different blankets. She thinks about how Chloe reminds her to take her antidepressants and anti-anxiety medications. She thinks about how the redhead knows what to do after an especially tough therapy session. She thinks about how, the last time Beca was in a depressive episode, Chloe played the vinyls her mother left her and made her hot chocolate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beca looks up to see Chloe standing in the entryway, a hand clasped over her mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a beautiful song,” Chloe says softly, approaching the brunette and sitting next to her. “Did you write it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beca nods, and shows her the pages. “That was… yeah. I wrote it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“September 23rd. You wrote this a day after the anniversary of your mom’s death?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was the first time anyone stood up for me,” Beca says softly. “You defended me to Aubrey. To your best friend. You remember the traditions I had with my mom and do it with me. You don’t care about my depression and anxiety, and you just roll with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s about me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beca nods again. “Everything I do is about you, nowadays.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before she can even blink, Chloe’s lips are on hers. She revels in the softness, the pressure of Chloe’s hands on her knee grounding her. She kisses back with fervor, bringing her hands up to rest behind Chloe's neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just so you know, I love the name Winter.”</span>
</p>
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